


The Interview

by slrandomperson



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Canon, Canon Compliant, Ficlet, Hand Job, Interview, It’s a really short hj and not sexy at all bc I got uncomfortable, I’m sorry I hate writing smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 01:26:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15183698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slrandomperson/pseuds/slrandomperson
Summary: Patrick is having trouble concentrating on the important things during an interview.AB/AP era <3





	The Interview

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this is a short little blurb I barfed out last night. Hope you enjoy :)

"What has been your favorite tour so far?" Joe asked, reading from the screen in front of them. Patrick bit his lip thoughtfully and was acutely aware of Pete watching him, just as he was aware of everything Pete did.

Andy started talking about how every tour seems like the peak in the moment, and you don't think it could ever get better but then it does. Patrick added some bullshit response about liking the ones where he doesn't have to act like a piece of toast and shoot out of the stage, and Pete made fun of him but didn't answer. Patrick could swear he and Pete exchanged a knowing glance from the corners of their eyes, but he wasn't completely sure he had seen correctly. It didn't matter anyway; they both knew their favorite tour was the Save Rock and Roll World Tour. It was their reunion, it was when they picked up from where they left off.

"Patrick," Pete had said when they were finally alone on the bus. "We have to talk about it sometime."

"I know we do." Patrick just pulled his fedora down to shield his blush, but Pete pulled it off of his head.

"What are we gonna' do?"

Patrick stared at his best friend's dark eyes, breaths coming in rushes too large but far between. "The only thing we know how to do."

It was then that Pete kissed him, and their old routine fell into place once again. It was as Pete always said: Old habits die hard, but when they do, they resurrect and sucker punch you in the jaw.

Patrick and Pete had strict rules about tour life—no one else was to know, it meant nothing, and anything outside of tours was strictly forbidden. They had wives and kids and everything to lose from this, but touring was hard and Patrick's only stress reliever was in the form of tattoos, spiky hair and what had to be nicotine chapstick.

Patrick's trip down memory lane was cut short by the next question. "Did the process of making this album feel different from the others so far? Was there anything that changed drastically?"

After spouting out something about learning to use the studio without help, Patrick listened to Joe talk about fatherhood and having to deal with those responsibilities, which lead to a lot of separate studio time.

An uncomfortable amount of guilt settled in Patrick's stomach as he remembered being alone in the studio with Pete at three in the morning because they were dealing with their kids all day. They had just kind of stared at each other, Patrick on the couch and Pete standing in the doorway with his hands in his pockets.

"So...," Pete had begun, but by then Patrick was already making his way across the room and pushing Pete against the wall.

"This means nothing, okay?" Pete just nodded eagerly as Patrick unzipped the taller man's jeans, and the rest was history.

They ended up in the studio alone a few more times after that.

Patrick suffered through the rest of the live stream, trying not to think about Pete anymore, but it was hard when he was sitting right next to the guy. It became increasingly difficult, however, when Pete continued to provoke him and lean into his side, poking him in the arm a couple of times.

When the whole thing wrapped up and Patrick got into his car to drive Pete back to the hotel, he felt a huge wave of relief wash over him. All of those memories were things for the night hours and alone time with Pete. God, this whole thing was getting so confusing.

Pete was biting his nails and staring out the window, looking quite nervous. "You good, Petey?"

"Yeah, no, I mean, it's just..." Pete shifted to face Patrick. "I can't stop thinking."

"Well, that's what humans do, Pete."

"No, I mean about us."

Patrick swallowed. "The band?" He was playing dumb, but Pete could definitely see right through him.

"Patrick, we can't...we can't keep this up forever." Pulling up to a red light, Patrick allowed himself to look over at Pete's pleading expression.

"Why not?"

Pete gulped. "Because I—" He cut himself off, snapping his jaw shut.

"Pete, why can't we just—" And then Pete was unbuckling his seatbelt to get closer, and as the light turned green, his tongue was licking a wet line down Patrick's jaw.

Patrick's foot slammed on the gas as his grip on the wheel tightened, turning his knuckles white, blushing a shade of red. "What the hell are you doing?"

Pete wrapped his arms around Patrick's shoulders as he nipped at the pale skin above Patrick's collarbone, surely leaving marks. "Just drive."

Trying and failing to concentrate on the road, Patrick groaned softly and moved a shaky hand down to the zipper of Pete's jeans. Having done this so many times before, he had no trouble unzipping without looking.

Pete made a noise of contentment as Patrick's fingers brushed his sensitive skin. "No underwear? Don't tell me you thought this was going to happen."

"Fine. I won't," Pete said against his skin, moving one hand to rest on Patrick's thigh as support. At this point, he was steering with one hand and immensely distracted, but Patrick figured what the hell and added a hand job to the mix.

As his fingers curled around Pete's now hardening cock, Patrick smiled at the tiny gasp Pete let escape from his lips. It was nothing special, really, just a regular old hand job, but Pete was curling his fingers into Patrick's shoulder and thigh as he came into Patrick's hand with an absolutely gorgeous moan in no time. 

"You're fucking perfect," Pete whispered into Patrick's neck. "Now tell me why."

"Why what?" Patrick asked innocently, licking the sticky liquid off of his hand. "Mm, salty."

Pete pulled back and watched Patrick clean off his hand, zipping up his pants. " _That_. Why?"

"Are you going to complain about a hand job? Really?"

"No." Pete sighed. "I just mean that you knew you would get nothing in return."

"Pete—"

"Shut up! I'm trying to make a point!" Patrick gave him the side eye, but let him continue. "You did that because you wanted me to feel good." They pulled up to a red light, and Patrick's tense fists relaxed against the wheel. "Now look me in the eye and tell me you feel nothing for me."

Patrick's eyes went wide as he stared at Pete. "What?"

"Look me in the eye and swear that you feel absolutely no romantic _anything_ toward me. Then I'll drop it. Fair deal?" Patrick just looked at him, looked into his hot whiskey eyes and bottomless soul and larger-than-life presence, and wondered why he was rendered speechless. "Patrick, come on. Say it."

Patrick's jaw opened and closed as if trying to form words that wouldn't come out. Of course he didn't feel anything toward Pete; he was married and had kids and Pete had a girlfriend and there was no way he could feel...

"Why aren't you saying anything? Patrick, fucking say something. Please." Pete was begging him to break his heart, Patrick realized. He didn't want Patrick to be in love with him. That would be the end of everything.

When Patrick's vocal chords finally worked again, he said, "I can't...I can't lie to you."

Pete's pupils contracted as the sun broke through the clouds, and he blinked and sat back against the seat. "Wow. That's it. We're fucked. Completely and utterly fucked." Patrick was silent as he pulled into the parking lot of a nearby Walmart. "What are you doing?"

"We're going to fuck in the back seat and then were gonna' figure this out."

"What?"

Patrick was dead serious. "You heard me. You're going to fuck me in the back seat, and then we're going to figure out what we're supposed to do."

At first he thought Pete was going to protest, but then Patrick was being pushed onto the seat and Pete was climbing on top of him. "Fuck, I love you."

Feeling like he was about to throw up, Patrick grabbed Pete's shirt collar and pulled him down into a kiss. "I love you, too. Now fuck me."

Divorces are messy.

**Author's Note:**

> Drop a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed <3


End file.
